


Sick Thoughts

by Nudebeme



Series: Chac and Cicero [29]
Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Platonic Romance, Unrequited Lust
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-28
Updated: 2015-01-28
Packaged: 2018-03-09 10:06:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3245654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nudebeme/pseuds/Nudebeme
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Listener always believed in love at first sight, that's exactly how he felt for his husband back home. It wasn't the same for his Keeper, who he'd been caring for, for months now. He was a strange one, certainly, but it isn't until the Jester steps out of his silly facade and into something more humble did the Listener realize something very concerning. Cicero, once filthy and wild, was actually...beautiful.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sick Thoughts

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a request to see Cicero in Chac's clothing. Early friendship.

Chac waited patiently, wandering from the kitchen to the guest room of his home in Windhelm while his Jester guest made use of his luxurious bath downstairs. He smiled at the black and red jester regalia, frozen and soaking wet laying on the stair handrail, completely unwearable. There where holes and tears littering the filthy thing, why he continued to wear it completely bewildered him. Luckily the snowstorm gave him an excuse to make the crazy man not wear it for at least a night…

He finishes putting sheets and blankets on the guest bed where Calder once slept, candles lit giving the small room a cozy, welcoming air. Wind whipped outside, but in here there was only the smell of cooked food and old books. Downstairs, Cicero stepped out of the bath, his skinny limbs shivering in the cold air. Muttering to himself, he held up the only article of clothing the Listener had for him; an oversized, red tunic with undone laces. 

"Huh, Listener couldn’t spare a set of pants for poor Cicero, not even a single sock! tsk tsk tsk!" The elfish man smoothed back his dark red hair, had no mirror to see that his kohl-lined eyes have smudged. Naked and shivering, he spent the extra time to brush his teeth with the supplies he’d been offered before reluctantly throwing on the massive, warm tunic. He felt utterly naked, and that was something he  _didn’t_  like the feeling of, being so shy. But it’s all he had. 

He stepped outside, once again impressed by the wealth he saw before him. Listener had many wonderful things strewn about his home! If he where a stranger, he’d have loved to steal some and bring them home to sweet Mother. He was about to go upstairs, but sneaky Cicero was transfixed on a smell coming from the kitchen. He creeps his way inside and steals a big piece of a sweet bun, and then some grapes… It wasn’t often he had access to such bounty. 

The little madman finally made his way up the creaky staircase, looking at the marvelous Daedric and glass armor on the mannequins..a bit eerie, he’ll admit, but lovely. 

"Cicero, how was your bath?" He heard Chac from around the corner, seeing the comfortably-dressed elf enter the hallway, a hand against the doorframe. Chac deadpanned then- the otherwise ridiculous looking little man had been completely transformed. 

"Why it was fantastic thank you for asking! But…are you sure there isn’t a single set of pants you have for Cicero? He’s feeling a bit..uh..naked." 

Chac didn’t answer him at first, staring at his new friend in a totally new way. Cicero looked absolutely tiny wearing his shirt, the way it hung loose around his shoulders, longer than his arms, like a skirt around his thighs. His legs where perfect, a creamy white that ended in sculpted little feet. He had to shake his head to lose the thoughts that ran through his mind- No Chac, don’t be that way, he thought. 

"Sorry, I don’t. But you look very handsome." 

Cicero never knew how to respond to those kind of compliments- he hadn’t been called these words in so many years and honestly he didn’t believe a single word. 

"Oh posh! You flatter Cicero!" He threw his hand out, wrist limp, that made Chac only more flustered. Would Cicero mind if he touched those legs? Just an innocent graze?

"…uh, erm, I’ve made you’re bed. If it smells a little Nordly I apologize now." 

Chac couldn’t help himself, he straight up stared as Cicero made his way barefoot down the hall into the guest room, looking inside before smoothing back his hair. Chac noticed his bare hands, they where lovely and pink. 

"It’s all yours. Don’t worry about waking up early, we’ve got nowhere to be. Sleep well, you silly thing." 

"Goodnight, Listener! And thank you again for your kindness." 

"It’s nothing at all. Goodnight."

A fidgety Chac left the doorway and to his own room across the hall. Gods damn him, what the hell is he doing? The man he obsessed with was right there, he had no right doing this. Feeling this way. Cicero must have been clueless to how much he’s been lusting for the Imperial as of late. Then again, he doubts Cicero would ever consider  _anybody_  to think he’s attractive. 

But he’s got a family. A husband.

That’s not what he thought as he crawled into his master bed, staring at the ceiling. Thoughts of flawless Vilkas vanished, replaced with visions of Cicero in his clothes, the exotic little redhead he’s grown to adore. The madness he wished to temper with his friendship which had spiraled so out of control.

It was wrong, what he’s doing, but Chac grew rock hard at the memory of Cicero’s bare legs. His exposed collarbone that demanded biting. Surely, he wasn’t a comparison to Vilkas’ pristine face, but almost everything about Cicero has become a muse to him. Chac took himself in his hand and pumped shamefully. Eyes staring unblinking at the vaulted ceiling, he let his mind be consumed by the imaginings of what it could be to make love to Cicero. To show him what he’s missed for so many years. 

Cicero slept unknowingly while Chac feverishly fucked his hands, the bed creaking ever so slightly with his writhing hips. Chac thought of fucking that little ass of his, musing on how virginal tight he must be. How pretty he must sound crying out in his epicene voice, succumbing to orgasm. 

It wasn’t until he thought of Cicero cumming did he reach his climax, openly gasping and spilling a hot mess into his hand. Chac groaned tiredly, too exhausted to find a place to dispose of his load. 

He only felt shame then.

Tomorrow, when Cicero puts his Jester regalia on again, he hopes these fancies would vanish.

But that time came. And when Cicero tiredly walked into the Kitchen, his Jester hat on his brow, Chac realized with dread that his desires have not waned. Gods help him, and his family. 

"Good morning, Listener!"

"Did you sleep well, little one?"

"Like the dead! heehee!"


End file.
